Dickens, Charles: THE LAMPLIGHTER

'If you talk of Murphy and Francis Moore, gentlemen,' said thelamplighter who was in the chair, 'I mean to say that neither of'em ever had any more to do with the stars than Tom Grig had.'

'And what had HE to do with 'em?' asked the lamplighter whoofficiated as vice.

'Nothing at all,' replied the other; 'just exactly nothing at all.'

'Do you mean to say you don't believe in Murphy, then?' demandedthe lamplighter who had opened the discussion.

'I mean to say I believe in Tom Grig,' replied the chairman.'Whether I believe in Murphy, or not, is a matter between me and myconscience; and whether Murphy believes in himself, or not, is amatter between him and his conscience. Gentlemen, I drink yourhealths.'

The lamplighter who did the company this honour, was seated in thechimney-corner of a certain tavern, which has been, time out ofmind, the Lamplighters' House of Call. He sat in the midst of acircle of lamplighters, and was the cacique, or chief of the tribe.

If any of our readers have had the good fortune to behold alamplighter's funeral, they will not be surprised to learn thatlamplighters are a strange and primitive people; that they rigidlyadhere to old ceremonies and customs which have been handed downamong them from father to son since the first public lamp waslighted out of doors; that they intermarry, and betroth theirchildren in infancy; that they enter into no plots or conspiracies(for who ever heard of a traitorous lamplighter?); that they commitno crimes against the laws of their country (there being noinstance of a murderous or burglarious lamplighter); that they are,in short, notwithstanding their apparently volatile and restlesscharacter, a highly moral and reflective people: having amongthemselves as many traditional observances as the Jews, and being,as a body, if not as old as the hills, at least as old as thestreets. It is an article of their creed that the first faintglimmering of true civilisation shone in the first street-lightmaintained at the public expense. They trace their existence andhigh position in the public esteem, in a direct line to the heathenmythology; and hold that the history of Prometheus himself is but apleasant fable, whereof the true hero is a lamplighter.

'Gentlemen,' said the lamplighter in the chair, 'I drink yourhealths.'

'And perhaps, Sir,' said the vice, holding up his glass, and risinga little way off his seat and sitting down again, in token that herecognised and returned the compliment, 'perhaps you will add tothat condescension by telling us who Tom Grig was, and how he cameto be connected in your mind with Francis Moore, Physician.'

'Hear, hear, hear!' cried the lamplighters generally.

'Tom Grig, gentlemen,' said the chairman, 'was one of us; and ithappened to him, as it don't often happen to a public character inour line, that he had his what-you-may-call-it cast.'

'His head?' said the vice.

'No,' replied the chairman, 'not his head.'

'His face, perhaps?' said the vice. 'No, not his face.' 'Hislegs?' 'No, not his legs.' Nor yet his arms, nor his hands, norhis feet, nor his chest, all of which were severally suggested.

'His nativity, perhaps?'

'That's it,' said the chairman, awakening from his thoughtfulattitude at the suggestion. 'His nativity. That's what Tom hadcast, gentlemen.'

And there he stopped as if that were all he had to say; whereuponthere arose a murmur among the company, which at length resolveditself into a request, conveyed through the vice, that he would goon. This being exactly what the chairman wanted, he mused for alittle time, performed that agreeable ceremony which is popularlytermed wetting one's whistle, and went on thus:

'Tom Grig, gentlemen, was, as I have said, one of us; and I may gofurther, and say he was an ornament to us, and such a one as onlythe good old times of oil and cotton could have produced. Tom'sfamily, gentlemen, were all lamplighters.'

'Not the ladies, I hope?' asked the vice.

'They had talent enough for it, Sir,' rejoined the chairman, 'andwould have been, but for the prejudices of society. Let women havetheir rights, Sir, and the females of Tom's family would have beenevery one of 'em in office. But that emancipation hasn't come yet,and hadn't then, and consequently they confined themselves to thebosoms of their families, cooked the dinners, mended the clothes,minded the children, comforted their husbands, and attended to thehouse-keeping generally. It's a hard thing upon the women,gentlemen, that they are limited to such a sphere of action asthis; very hard.

'I happen to know all about Tom, gentlemen, from the circumstanceof his uncle by his mother's side, having been my particularfriend. His (that's Tom's uncle's) fate was a melancholy one. Gaswas the death of him. When it was first talked of, he laughed. Hewasn't angry; he laughed at the credulity of human nature. "Theymight as well talk," he says, "of laying on an everlastingsuccession of glow-worms;" and then he laughed again, partly at hisjoke, and partly at poor humanity.

'In course of time, however, the thing got ground, the experimentwas made, and they lighted up Pall Mall. Tom's uncle went to seeit. I've heard that he fell off his ladder fourteen times thatnight, from weakness, and that he would certainly have gone onfalling till he killed himself, if his last tumble hadn't been intoa wheelbarrow which was going his way, and humanely took him home."I foresee in this," says Tom's uncle faintly, and taking to hisbed as he spoke - "I foresee in this," he says, "the breaking up ofour profession. There's no more going the rounds to trim bydaylight, no more dribbling down of the oil on the hats and bonnetsof ladies and gentlemen when one feels in spirits. Any low fellowcan light a gas-lamp. And it's all up." In this state of mind, hepetitioned the government for - I want a word again, gentlemen -what do you call that which they give to people when it's foundout, at last, that they've never been of any use, and have beenpaid too much for doing nothing?'

'Compensation?' suggested the vice.

'That's it,' said the chairman. 'Compensation. They didn't giveit him, though, and then he got very fond of his country all atonce, and went about saying that gas was a death-blow to his nativeland, and that it was a plot of the radicals to ruin the countryand destroy the oil and cotton trade for ever, and that the whaleswould go and kill themselves privately, out of sheer spite andvexation at not being caught. At last he got right-down cracked;called his tobacco-pipe a gas-pipe; thought his tears were lamp-oil; and went on with all manner of nonsense of that sort, till onenight he hung himself on a lamp-iron in Saint Martin's Lane, andthere was an end of HIM.

'Tom loved him, gentlemen, but he survived it. He shed a tear overhis grave, got very drunk, spoke a funeral oration that night inthe watch-house, and was fined five shillings for it, in themorning. Some men are none the worse for this sort of thing. Tomwas one of 'em. He went that very afternoon on a new beat: asclear in his head, and as free from fever as Father Mathew himself.

'Tom's new beat, gentlemen, was - I can't exactly say where, forthat he'd never tell; but I know it was in a quiet part of town,where there were some queer old houses. I have always had it in myhead that it must have been somewhere near Canonbury Tower inIslington, but that's a matter of opinion. Wherever it was, hewent upon it, with a bran-new ladder, a white hat, a brown hollandjacket and trousers, a blue neck-kerchief, and a sprig of full-blown double wall-flower in his button-hole. Tom was alwaysgenteel in his appearance, and I have heard from the best judges,that if he had left his ladder at home that afternoon, you mighthave took him for a lord.

'He was always merry, was Tom, and such a singer, that if there wasany encouragement for native talent, he'd have been at the opera.He was on his ladder, lighting his first lamp, and singing tohimself in a manner more easily to be conceived than described,when he hears the clock strike five, and suddenly sees an oldgentleman with a telescope in his hand, throw up a window and lookat him very hard.

'Tom didn't know what could be passing in this old gentleman'smind. He thought it likely enough that he might be saying withinhimself, "Here's a new lamplighter - a good-looking young fellow -shall I stand something to drink?" Thinking this possible, hekeeps quite still, pretending to be very particular about the wick,and looks at the old gentleman sideways, seeming to take no noticeof him.

'Gentlemen, he was one of the strangest and most mysterious-lookingfiles that ever Tom clapped his eyes on. He was dressed allslovenly and untidy, in a great gown of a kind of bed-furniturepattern, with a cap of the same on his head; and a long old flappedwaistcoat; with no braces, no strings, very few buttons - in short,with hardly any of those artificial contrivances that hold societytogether. Tom knew by these signs, and by his not being shaved,and by his not being over-clean, and by a sort of wisdom not quiteawake, in his face, that he was a scientific old gentleman. Heoften told me that if he could have conceived the possibility ofthe whole Royal Society being boiled down into one man, he shouldhave said the old gentleman's body was that Body.

'The old gentleman claps the telescope to his eye, looks all round,sees nobody else in sight, stares at Tom again, and cries out veryloud:

'Tom thanked him for the information, and begged to know ifanything particular was going to happen in the stars, in the courseof a week or so; but the old gentleman, correcting him, explainedthat he read in the stars what was going to happen on dry land, andthat he was acquainted with all the celestial bodies.

'"I hope they're all well, Sir," says Tom, - "everybody."

'"Hush!" cries the old gentleman. "I have consulted the book ofFate with rare and wonderful success. I am versed in the greatsciences of astrology and astronomy. In my house here, I haveevery description of apparatus for observing the course and motionof the planets. Six months ago, I derived from this source, theknowledge that precisely as the clock struck five this afternoon astranger would present himself - the destined husband of my youngand lovely niece - in reality of illustrious and high descent, butwhose birth would be enveloped in uncertainty and mystery. Don'ttell me yours isn't," says the old gentleman, who was in such ahurry to speak that he couldn't get the words out fast enough, "forI know better."

'Gentlemen, Tom was so astonished when he heard him say this, thathe could hardly keep his footing on the ladder, and found itnecessary to hold on by the lamp-post. There WAS a mystery abouthis birth. His mother had always admitted it. Tom had never knownwho was his father, and some people had gone so far as to say thateven SHE was in doubt.

'While he was in this state of amazement, the old gentleman leavesthe window, bursts out of the house-door, shakes the ladder, andTom, like a ripe pumpkin, comes sliding down into his arms.

'"Let me embrace you," he says, folding his arms about him, andnearly lighting up his old bed-furniture gown at Tom's link."You're a man of noble aspect. Everything combines to prove theaccuracy of my observations. You have had mysterious promptingswithin you," he says; "I know you have had whisperings ofgreatness, eh?" he says.

'"I think I have," says Tom - Tom was one of those who can persuadethemselves to anything they like - "I've often thought I wasn't thesmall beer I was taken for."

'"Is the young lady tolerable good-looking, Sir?" says Tom, hangingfire rather, as he thought of her playing the piano, and knowingFrench, and being up to all manner of accomplishments.

'"She's beautiful!" cries the old gentleman, who was in such aterrible bustle that he was all in a perspiration. "She has agraceful carriage, an exquisite shape, a sweet voice, a countenancebeaming with animation and expression; and the eye," he says,rubbing his hands, "of a startled fawn."

'Tom supposed this might mean, what was called among his circle ofacquaintance, "a game eye;" and, with a view to this defect,inquired whether the young lady had any cash.

'"She has five thousand pounds," cries the old gentleman. "Butwhat of that? what of that? A word in your ear. I'm in search ofthe philosopher's stone. I have very nearly found it - not quite.It turns everything to gold; that's its property."

'Tom naturally thought it must have a deal of property; and saidthat when the old gentleman did get it, he hoped he'd be careful tokeep it in the family.

'"Certainly," he says, "of course. Five thousand pounds! What'sfive thousand pounds to us? What's five million?" he says."What's five thousand million? Money will be nothing to us. Weshall never be able to spend it fast enough."

'"We'll try what we can do, Sir," says Tom.

'"We will," says the old gentleman. "Your name?"

'"Grig," says Tom.

'The old gentleman embraced him again, very tight; and withoutspeaking another word, dragged him into the house in such anexcited manner, that it was as much as Tom could do to take hislink and ladder with him, and put them down in the passage.

'Gentlemen, if Tom hadn't been always remarkable for his love oftruth, I think you would still have believed him when he said thatall this was like a dream. There is no better way for a man tofind out whether he is really asleep or awake, than calling forsomething to eat. If he's in a dream, gentlemen, he'll findsomething wanting in flavour, depend upon it.

'Tom explained his doubts to the old gentleman, and said that ifthere was any cold meat in the house, it would ease his mind verymuch to test himself at once. The old gentleman ordered up avenison pie, a small ham, and a bottle of very old Madeira. At thefirst mouthful of pie and the first glass of wine, Tom smacks hislips and cries out, "I'm awake - wide awake;" and to prove that hewas so, gentlemen, he made an end of 'em both.

'When Tom had finished his meal (which he never spoke of afterwardswithout tears in his eyes), the old gentleman hugs him again, andsays, "Noble stranger! let us visit my young and lovely niece."Tom, who was a little elevated with the wine, replies, "The noblestranger is agreeable!" At which words the old gentleman took himby the hand, and led him to the parlour; crying as he opened thedoor, "Here is Mr. Grig, the favourite of the planets!"

'I will not attempt a description of female beauty, gentlemen, forevery one of us has a model of his own that suits his own tastebest. In this parlour that I'm speaking of, there were two youngladies; and if every gentleman present, will imagine two models ofhis own in their places, and will be kind enough to polish 'em upto the very highest pitch of perfection, he will then have a faintconception of their uncommon radiance.

'Besides these two young ladies, there was their waiting-woman,that under any other circumstances Tom would have looked upon as aVenus; and besides her, there was a tall, thin, dismal-faced younggentleman, half man and half boy, dressed in a childish suit ofclothes very much too short in the legs and arms; and looking,according to Tom's comparison, like one of the wax juveniles from atailor's door, grown up and run to seed. Now, this youngsterstamped his foot upon the ground and looked very fierce at Tom, andTom looked fierce at him - for to tell the truth, gentlemen, Tommore than half suspected that when they entered the room he waskissing one of the young ladies; and for anything Tom knew, youobserve, it might be HIS young lady - which was not pleasant.

'"Sir," says Tom, "before we proceed any further, will you have thegoodness to inform me who this young Salamander" - Tom called himthat for aggravation, you perceive, gentlemen - "who this youngSalamander may be?"

'"And a very fine child too," says Tom - still aggravating, you'llobserve - "of his age, and as good as fine, I have no doubt. Howdo you do, my man?" with which kind and patronising expressions,Tom reached up to pat him on the head, and quoted two lines aboutlittle boys, from Doctor Watts's Hymns, which he had learnt at aSunday School.

'It was very easy to see, gentlemen, by this youngster's frowningand by the waiting-maid's tossing her head and turning up her nose,and by the young ladies turning their backs and talking together atthe other end of the room, that nobody but the old gentleman tookvery kindly to the noble stranger. Indeed, Tom plainly heard thewaiting-woman say of her master, that so far from being able toread the stars as he pretended, she didn't believe he knew hisletters in 'em, or at best that he had got further than words inone syllable; but Tom, not minding this (for he was in spiritsafter the Madeira), looks with an agreeable air towards the youngladies, and, kissing his hand to both, says to the old gentleman,"Which is which?"

'"This," says the old gentleman, leading out the handsomest, if oneof 'em could possibly be said to be handsomer than the other -"this is my niece, Miss Fanny Barker."

'"If you'll permit me, Miss," says Tom, "being a noble stranger anda favourite of the planets, I will conduct myself as such." Withthese words, he kisses the young lady in a very affable way, turnsto the old gentleman, slaps him on the back, and says, "When's itto come off, my buck?"

'The young lady coloured so deep, and her lip trembled so much,gentlemen, that Tom really thought she was going to cry. But shekept her feelings down, and turning to the old gentleman, says,"Dear uncle, though you have the absolute disposal of my hand andfortune, and though you mean well in disposing of 'em thus, I askyou whether you don't think this is a mistake? Don't you think,dear uncle," she says, "that the stars must be in error? Is it notpossible that the comet may have put 'em out?"

'"The stars," says the old gentleman, "couldn't make a mistake ifthey tried. Emma," he says to the other young lady.

'"Yes, papa," says she.

'"The same day that makes your cousin Mrs. Grig will unite you tothe gifted Mooney. No remonstrance - no tears. Now, Mr. Grig, letme conduct you to that hallowed ground, that philosophical retreat,where my friend and partner, the gifted Mooney of whom I have justnow spoken, is even now pursuing those discoveries which shallenrich us with the precious metal, and make us masters of theworld. Come, Mr. Grig," he says.

'"With all my heart, Sir," replies Tom; "and luck to the giftedMooney, say I - not so much on his account as for our worthyselves!" With this sentiment, Tom kissed his hand to the ladiesagain, and followed him out; having the gratification to perceive,as he looked back, that they were all hanging on by the arms andlegs of Galileo Isaac Newton Flamstead, to prevent him fromfollowing the noble stranger, and tearing him to pieces.

'Gentlemen, Tom's father-in-law that was to be, took him by thehand, and having lighted a little lamp, led him across a pavedcourt-yard at the back of the house, into a very large, dark,gloomy room: filled with all manner of bottles, globes, books,telescopes, crocodiles, alligators, and other scientificinstruments of every kind. In the centre of this room was a stoveor furnace, with what Tom called a pot, but which in my opinion wasa crucible, in full boil. In one corner was a sort of ladderleading through the roof; and up this ladder the old gentlemanpointed, as he said in a whisper:

'"The observatory. Mr. Mooney is even now watching for the precisetime at which we are to come into all the riches of the earth. Itwill be necessary for he and I, alone in that silent place, to castyour nativity before the hour arrives. Put the day and minute ofyour birth on this piece of paper, and leave the rest to me."

'"You don't mean to say," says Tom, doing as he was told and givinghim back the paper, "that I'm to wait here long, do you? It's aprecious dismal place."

'The old gentleman makes him no answer, but climbs up the ladder ina greater bustle than ever. Tom looked after his legs till therewas nothing of him left, and then sat down to wait; feeling (so heused to say) as comfortable as if he was going to be made afreemason, and they were heating the pokers.

'Tom waited so long, gentlemen, that he began to think it must begetting on for midnight at least, and felt more dismal and lonelythan ever he had done in all his life. He tried every means ofwhiling away the time, but it never had seemed to move so slow.First, he took a nearer view of the child with three heads, andthought what a comfort it must have been to his parents. Then helooked up a long telescope which was pointed out of the window, butsaw nothing particular, in consequence of the stopper being on atthe other end. Then he came to a skeleton in a glass case,labelled, "Skeleton of a Gentleman - prepared by Mr. Mooney," -which made him hope that Mr. Mooney might not be in the habit ofpreparing gentlemen that way without their own consent. A hundredtimes, at least, he looked into the pot where they were boiling thephilosopher's stone down to the proper consistency, and wonderedwhether it was nearly done. "When it is," thinks Tom, "I'll sendout for six-penn'orth of sprats, and turn 'em into gold fish for afirst experiment." Besides which, he made up his mind, gentlemen,to have a country-house and a park; and to plant a bit of it with adouble row of gas-lamps a mile long, and go out every night with aFrench-polished mahogany ladder, and two servants in livery behindhim, to light 'em for his own pleasure.

'At length and at last, the old gentleman's legs appeared upon thesteps leading through the roof, and he came slowly down: bringingalong with him, the gifted Mooney. This Mooney, gentlemen, waseven more scientific in appearance than his friend; and had, as Tomoften declared upon his word and honour, the dirtiest face we canpossibly know of, in this imperfect state of existence.

'Gentlemen, you are all aware that if a scientific man isn't absentin his mind, he's of no good at all. Mr. Mooney was so absent,that when the old gentleman said to him, "Shake hands with Mr.Grig," he put out his leg. "Here's a mind, Mr. Grig!" cries theold gentleman in a rapture. "Here's philosophy! Here'srumination! Don't disturb him," he says, "for this is amazing!"

'Tom had no wish to disturb him, having nothing particular to say;but he was so uncommonly amazing, that the old gentleman gotimpatient, and determined to give him an electric shock to bringhim to - "for you must know, Mr. Grig," he says, "that we alwayskeep a strongly charged battery, ready for that purpose." Thesemeans being resorted to, gentlemen, the gifted Mooney revived witha loud roar, and he no sooner came to himself than both he and theold gentleman looked at Tom with compassion, and shed tearsabundantly.

'"My dear friend," says the old gentleman to the Gifted, "preparehim."

'"Alas!" replies the old gentleman, "you don't understand us. Myfriend, inform him of his fate. - I can't."

'The Gifted mustered up his voice, after many efforts, and informedTom that his nativity had been carefully cast, and he would expireat exactly thirty-five minutes, twenty-seven seconds, and five-sixths of a second past nine o'clock, a.m., on that day two months.

'Gentlemen, I leave you to judge what were Tom's feelings at thisannouncement, on the eve of matrimony and endless riches. "Ithink," he says in a trembling voice, "there must be a mistake inthe working of that sum. Will you do me the favour to cast it upagain?" - "There is no mistake," replies the old gentleman, "it isconfirmed by Francis Moore, Physician. Here is the prediction forto-morrow two months." And he showed him the page, where sureenough were these words - "The decease of a great person may belooked for, about this time."

'"Which," says the old gentleman, "is clearly you, Mr. Grig."

'"Too clearly," cries Tom, sinking into a chair, and giving onehand to the old gentleman, and one to the Gifted. "The orb of dayhas set on Thomas Grig for ever!"

'At this affecting remark, the Gifted shed tears again, and theother two mingled their tears with his, in a kind - if I may usethe expression - of Mooney and Co.'s entire. But the old gentlemanrecovering first, observed that this was only a reason forhastening the marriage, in order that Tom's distinguished racemight be transmitted to posterity; and requesting the Gifted toconsole Mr. Grig during his temporary absence, he withdrew tosettle the preliminaries with his niece immediately.

'And now, gentlemen, a very extraordinary and remarkable occurrencetook place; for as Tom sat in a melancholy way in one chair, andthe Gifted sat in a melancholy way in another, a couple of doorswere thrown violently open, the two young ladies rushed in, and oneknelt down in a loving attitude at Tom's feet, and the other at theGifted's. So far, perhaps, as Tom was concerned - as he used tosay - you will say there was nothing strange in this: but you willbe of a different opinion when you understand that Tom's young ladywas kneeling to the Gifted, and the Gifted's young lady waskneeling to Tom.

'"Halloa! stop a minute!" cries Tom; "here's a mistake. I needcondoling with by sympathising woman, under my afflictingcircumstances; but we're out in the figure. Change partners,Mooney."

'"Monster!" cries Tom's young lady, clinging to the Gifted.

'"Miss!" says Tom. "Is THAT your manners?"

'"I abjure thee!" cries Tom's young lady. "I renounce thee. Inever will be thine. Thou," she says to the Gifted, "art theobject of my first and all-engrossing passion. Wrapt in thysublime visions, thou hast not perceived my love; but, driven todespair, I now shake off the woman and avow it. Oh, cruel, cruelman!" With which reproach she laid her head upon the Gifted'sbreast, and put her arms about him in the tenderest mannerpossible, gentlemen.

'"And I," says the other young lady, in a sort of ecstasy, thatmade Tom start - "I hereby abjure my chosen husband too. Hear me,Goblin!" - this was to the Gifted - "Hear me! I hold thee in thedeepest detestation. The maddening interview of this one night hasfilled my soul with love - but not for thee. It is for thee, forthee, young man," she cries to Tom. "As Monk Lewis finelyobserves, Thomas, Thomas, I am thine, Thomas, Thomas, thou artmine: thine for ever, mine for ever!" with which words, she becamevery tender likewise.

'Tom and the Gifted, gentlemen, as you may believe, looked at eachother in a very awkward manner, and with thoughts not at allcomplimentary to the two young ladies. As to the Gifted, I haveheard Tom say often, that he was certain he was in a fit, and hadit inwardly.

'"Speak to me! Oh, speak to me!" cries Tom's young lady to theGifted.

'"I don't want to speak to anybody," he says, finding his voice atlast, and trying to push her away. "I think I had better go. I'm- I'm frightened," he says, looking about as if he had lostsomething.

'"Not one look of love!" she cries. "Hear me while I declare - "

'"I don't know how to look a look of love," he says, all in a maze."Don't declare anything. I don't want to hear anybody."

'Gentlemen, these words were no sooner out of his mouth thanGalileo Isaac Newton Flamstead (who it seems had been listeningtoo) darts in, and spinning round and round, like a young giant'stop, cries, "Let her. Let her. I'm fierce; I'm furious. I giveher leave. I'll never marry anybody after this - never. It isn'tsafe. She is the falsest of the false," he cries, tearing his hairand gnashing his teeth; "and I'll live and die a bachelor!"

'"The little boy," observed the Gifted gravely, "albeit of tenderyears, has spoken wisdom. I have been led to the contemplation ofwoman-kind, and will not adventure on the troubled waters ofmatrimony."

'"What!" says the old gentleman, "not marry my daughter! Won'tyou, Mooney? Not if I make her? Won't you? Won't you?"

'"No," says Mooney, "I won't. And if anybody asks me any more,I'll run away, and never come back again."

'"Mr. Grig," says the old gentleman, "the stars must be obeyed.You have not changed your mind because of a little girlish folly -eh, Mr. Grig?"

'Tom, gentlemen, had had his eyes about him, and was pretty surethat all this was a device and trick of the waiting-maid, to puthim off his inclination. He had seen her hiding and skipping aboutthe two doors, and had observed that a very little whispering fromher pacified the Salamander directly. "So," thinks Tom, "this is aplot - but it won't fit."

'"Very good," says Tom, with a mournful air. "It's only for twomonths, but I may as well be the richest man in the world even forthat time. I'm not particular, I'll take her, Sir. I'll takeher."

'The old gentleman was in a rapture to find Tom still in the samemind, and drawing the young lady towards him by little and little,was joining their hands by main force, when all of a sudden,gentlemen, the crucible blows up, with a great crash; everybodyscreams; the room is filled with smoke; and Tom, not knowing whatmay happen next, throws himself into a Fancy attitude, and says,"Come on, if you're a man!" without addressing himself to anybodyin particular.

'"The labours of fifteen years!" says the old gentleman, claspinghis hands and looking down upon the Gifted, who was saving thepieces, "are destroyed in an instant!" - And I am told, gentlemen,by-the-bye, that this same philosopher's stone would have beendiscovered a hundred times at least, to speak within bounds, if itwasn't for the one unfortunate circumstance that the apparatusalways blows up, when it's on the very point of succeeding.

'Tom turns pale when he hears the old gentleman expressing himselfto this unpleasant effect, and stammers out that if it's quiteagreeable to all parties, he would like to know exactly what hashappened, and what change has really taken place in the prospectsof that company.

'"We have failed for the present, Mr. Grig," says the oldgentleman, wiping his forehead. "And I regret it the more, becauseI have in fact invested my niece's five thousand pounds in thisglorious speculation. But don't be cast down," he says, anxiously- "in another fifteen years, Mr. Grig - "

'"Go, Sir," says Tom, fiercely. "I forbid the banns." And withthese words - which are the very words he used - he sat himselfdown in a chair, and, laying his head upon the table, thought witha secret grief of what was to come to pass on that day two months.

'Tom always said, gentlemen, that that waiting-maid was theartfullest minx he had ever seen; and he left it in writing in thiscountry when he went to colonize abroad, that he was certain in hisown mind she and the Salamander had blown up the philosopher'sstone on purpose, and to cut him out of his property. I believeTom was in the right, gentlemen; but whether or no, she comesforward at this point, and says, "May I speak, Sir?" and the oldgentleman answering, "Yes, you may," she goes on to say that "thestars are no doubt quite right in every respect, but Tom is not theman." And she says, "Don't you remember, Sir, that when the clockstruck five this afternoon, you gave Master Galileo a rap on thehead with your telescope, and told him to get out of the way?""Yes, I do," says the old gentleman. "Then," says the waiting-maid, "I say he's the man, and the prophecy is fulfilled." The oldgentleman staggers at this, as if somebody had hit him a blow onthe chest, and cries, "He! why he's a boy!" Upon that, gentlemen,the Salamander cries out that he'll be twenty-one next Lady-day;and complains that his father has always been so busy with the sunround which the earth revolves, that he has never taken any noticeof the son that revolves round him; and that he hasn't had a newsuit of clothes since he was fourteen; and that he wasn't eventaken out of nankeen frocks and trousers till he was quiteunpleasant in 'em; and touches on a good many more family mattersto the same purpose. To make short of a long story, gentlemen,they all talk together, and cry together, and remind the oldgentleman that as to the noble family, his own grandfather wouldhave been lord mayor if he hadn't died at a dinner the year before;and they show him by all kinds of arguments that if the cousins aremarried, the prediction comes true every way. At last, the oldgentleman being quite convinced, gives in; and joins their hands;and leaves his daughter to marry anybody she likes; and they areall well pleased; and the Gifted as well as any of them.

'In the middle of this little family party, gentlemen, sits Tom allthe while, as miserable as you like. But, when everything else isarranged, the old gentleman's daughter says, that their strangeconduct was a little device of the waiting-maid's to disgust thelovers he had chosen for 'em, and will he forgive her? and if hewill, perhaps he might even find her a husband - and when she saysthat, she looks uncommon hard at Tom. Then the waiting-maid saysthat, oh dear! she couldn't abear Mr. Grig should think she wantedhim to marry her; and that she had even gone so far as to refusethe last lamplighter, who was now a literary character (having setup as a bill-sticker); and that she hoped Mr. Grig would notsuppose she was on her last legs by any means, for the baker wasvery strong in his attentions at that moment, and as to thebutcher, he was frantic. And I don't know how much more she mighthave said, gentlemen (for, as you know, this kind of young womenare rare ones to talk), if the old gentleman hadn't cut insuddenly, and asked Tom if he'd have her, with ten pounds torecompense him for his loss of time and disappointment, and as akind of bribe to keep the story secret.

'"It don't much matter, Sir," says Tom, "I ain't long for thisworld. Eight weeks of marriage, especially with this young woman,might reconcile me to my fate. I think," he says, "I could go offeasy after that." With which he embraces her with a very dismalface, and groans in a way that might move a heart of stone - evenof philosopher's stone.

'"Egad," says the old gentleman, "that reminds me - this bustle putit out of my head - there was a figure wrong. He'll live to agreen old age - eighty-seven at least!"

'"How much, Sir?" cries Tom.

'"Eighty-seven!" says the old gentleman.

'Without another word, Tom flings himself on the old gentleman'sneck; throws up his hat; cuts a caper; defies the waiting-maid; andrefers her to the butcher.

'"You won't marry her!" says the old gentleman, angrily.

'"And live after it!" says Tom. "I'd sooner marry a mermaid with asmall-tooth comb and looking-glass."

'"Then take the consequences," says the other.

'With those words - I beg your kind attention here, gentlemen, forit's worth your notice - the old gentleman wetted the forefinger ofhis right hand in some of the liquor from the crucible that wasspilt on the floor, and drew a small triangle on Tom's forehead.The room swam before his eyes, and he found himself in the watch-house.'

'Found himself WHERE?' cried the vice, on behalf of the companygenerally.

'In the watch-house,' said the chairman. 'It was late at night,and he found himself in the very watch-house from which he had beenlet out that morning.'

'Did he go home?' asked the vice.

'The watch-house people rather objected to that,' said thechairman; 'so he stopped there that night, and went before themagistrate in the morning. "Why, you're here again, are you?" saysthe magistrate, adding insult to injury; "we'll trouble you forfive shillings more, if you can conveniently spare the money." Tomtold him he had been enchanted, but it was of no use. He told thecontractors the same, but they wouldn't believe him. It was veryhard upon him, gentlemen, as he often said, for was it likely he'dgo and invent such a tale? They shook their heads and told himhe'd say anything but his prayers - as indeed he would; there's nodoubt about that. It was the only imputation on his moralcharacter that ever I heard of.'
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